


Crucible

by dormiensa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Curse Breaking, Curses, Dark Magic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Healing, Language, Light Angst, Minor Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Post-Hogwarts, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-09 03:48:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20486012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dormiensa/pseuds/dormiensa
Summary: Hermione and Draco’s relationship is put to the test when they seek to break a nasty curse.





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> **Couple:** Cowherd/Weaver Girl, a Chinese folktale
> 
> **Couple Summary:** She is a celestial being who falls in love with a mortal. The Jade Emperor, ruler of the heavens, eventually finds out and forcibly separates them. But the queen of the heavens takes pity, and once a year, on the seventh day of the seventh month, magpies form a bridge between the planes and thus the pair can be briefly united. The folktale attempts to explain how Vega and Altair are on opposite sides of the Milky Way. Link to a variation of the story: https://www.theepochtimes.com/the-cowherd-and-the-weaver-girl_835790.html 
> 
> Many thanks to the unflinching unseenlibrarian for being my beta!

“And you’re sure the curse will work?” The voice beneath the voluminous hood sounded both frightened and hopeful.

The old witch cackled. “So long as the sample of hair you brought belongs to whom you claim it does. I have never failed to deliver an effective curse… especially not when the young lady has paid such Galleons for it.” She barked another laugh as the hooded figure started. “Did you think you could fool Old Mildred with your form-hiding cloak—made from the softest velvet, the reason I even considered listening to your request—and poorly disguised voice? Only young lasses would have such fiery hatred as to wish ill on a competitor for a stripling’s affections.”

“He’s not a strip—”

“Ah! Think you’re wise to the ways of the world, do you, girl? I’ve seen further into the darkest recesses of the human heart than your pretty head could fathom. You be careful how you use Old Mildred’s spell. Your heart’s desire may yet remain unfulfilled. The greatest mages have failed to bottle love and control hatred for good reason.”

“Oh, shut it, you old hag! If you were that powerful, you wouldn’t need to live in this hovel in the filthiest corner of Knockturn Alley.”

The witch Mildred laughed her raspy laugh, not in the least put out. “You think I couldn’t live as grand as you? I _chose_ to leave that silly life you cling so dearly to because it contained too many petty bitches like you. You run along, now. Knockturn Alley after dark is no place for a delicate blossom like you.” And with that, she disappeared into the inner room.

The cloaked figure hesitated but then stomped out of the tiny abode, slamming the door behind her.

~*~*~*~

“What did the Head Healer say?” Pansy nearly stumbled as she stepped out of the fireplace.

Hermione burst into tears. Pansy grabbed her in a tight hug and did her best to soothe. She looked up at her best friend and frowned at his expression. 

“He’s been cursed. And there’s nothing they can do but monitor and make sure he doesn’t suffer too much.” 

“What! But—they caught all the Death Eaters, didn’t they? Who have you offended so badly that they’d wish harm on an innocent child?”

“The question is: where’s your sense of decency?”

Pansy stiffened. “What do you mean by that, Draco Malfoy?”

“Draco, don’t…” Hermione wiped away her tears. “It’s circumstantial. She would never—”

“She threatened to _Crucio_ you if I so much as asked you out on a date!”

Pansy’s jaw dropped. She was before him in a few steps. She slapped him. “If you hadn’t broken up with me the way you did, you insufferable prat, I wouldn’t’ve said those things! There isn’t a day when I don’t wish I could take those words back! And you think that _I_—he’s my godson!”

Draco rubbed his cheek and glared murderously. He clenched his fist and took a few deep breaths. In a voice of forced calm, he said, “Do you deny that you took a lock of his hair?”

“_That’s_ what you—Fine! Here!” She removed the locket from beneath her robes and extracted the golden strands secured within. She grabbed his hand and placed the knot of hair into his palm. “I only wanted something to look at when I think about him. But if you’re so convinced that I would wish any harm on him, then I have no words except _good-bye_!”

As the “FOOM” died, Draco sat down heavily beside his wife. “This day just keeps getting better. I know: I overreacted. But she could have just asked for it!”

“You know she sometimes gets impulsive. She probably didn’t consider we might react negatively until after she’d cut the lock, and then she was too scared to tell us.”

“But if it wasn’t her…”

“I’d like nothing more than to hex whoever is responsible into oblivion. But that’d be wasted energy and time away from Aneirin. We don’t know how much longer—”

“Shhh-shhhhh! I’m sorry.” He rubbed her back. “You’re right. I’m focussing on the wrong thing. It’s almost time for his nap. Let’s tuck him in together?”

~*~*~*~

The faces around the Weasley kitchen table were varying shades of ferocious red. Ron slammed his fist so hard against the table that the wood wobbled.

“We’ll catch the bastard, ’Mione! He’s going to wish he was never born!” he declared.

“I’ll speak to Kingsley first thing tomorrow. He won’t refuse my request to use all available resources,” said Harry stoutly.

“I’ll look at some of the old tomes in Mungo’s library,” Susan promised. 

“And you’re _sure_ Parkinson…” Ginny asked through clenched teeth.

“I’m sure, Gin. Crookshanks likes her, you know. And having gotten to know her these past two years, she’s only bitchy for show. It’s a Slytherin thing, I think.” 

“Ha, bloody ha,” said Draco. A few days had not reconciled him to the fact that he could lose his son at any moment, but it had tempered some of his initial rage. The smashing of several priceless vases had helped as well.

“Well, I’m going to investigate her, just for my own peace of mind. If I find out she’s behind it…”

“If I’m wrong about her, Gin, I promise you can have the first shot, but you also have to promise you’ll keep her alive so Draco and I can have our turns.”

“Oh, don’t you worry. Everyone at this table will have a crack at her before I’d even consider being merciful.”

“Have you upgraded your protective wards around the house?” Arthur asked, though his usually calm voice held a tremor. 

Hermione nodded. “Lucius spent a whole day scouring the private library for the strongest blood wards. He disappeared without a word since yesterday morning. If she weren’t so concerned about looking after the three of us, I’m sure Narcissa would either have joined him or gone on the hunt herself.”

“Well, I’ll Floo her after this and see if she’d be willing to let me help look after things,” Molly chimed in. “We all need to be in the best shape to dish out punishment when we catch the blaggard.”

There was a chorus of volunteers to share in the burden of watching over the baby. Hermione gave a tearful thanks. She pressed kisses to her son’s head and hugged him close. He had been in an almost constant state of drowsiness as a result of the potion that was slowing down the effects of the curse. He gave a sleepy gurgle.

“Hey, Malfoy! Care to help us de-gnome the garden? See who can toss them farthest?” 

“Yeah, all those threats about hexes and jinxes during Quidditch, but can you even throw a punch?”

Draco snorted. “You’re on, Tweedles! The trick to superior hand-eye coordination is enough brain power.”

“Guess that means Harry’s got a bigger brain than you!”

Hermione gave a watery chuckle. “He almost Sorted into Slytherin, you know.”

“Hermione!”

“Oh, Harry, did you really think that was still a secret? You shouldn’t tell drunken confessions to Ron, then,” said Ginny. 

“Oi!”

“Oh, don’t pout, Ron. Honestly, people’d think _you_ were the Weasley daughter! Go be useful and help Mum de-gnome the garden. Or go up to your room and sulk like a baby.”

Ron huffily joined the other boys in the yard.

“You girls go into the living room and have a chat. I can manage here. No! Don’t argue! This is still my house!” Molly shooed them off. Arthur put on an apron and proceeded to fill the sink with soapy water.

“Are you… coping all right, Hermione? You know that there’s no shame in seeking a Mind Healer if…” 

“I’m managing so far, Susan, but thanks for your concern. I know I need to keep myself healthy and strong. Neir isn’t in any immediate danger and he’s not in pain, not like that night… And—and I need to hold it together for Draco’s sake. He’s finally reached the limits of his ability to compartmentalize and block off his emotions. Narcissa’s been keeping a close eye on his every movement. She said to look out for an involuntary eye twitch. So far…”

“This is such cockwombling arsery.”

“Language, Ginevra!” called a scolding voice from the kitchen.

“But it’s true, Mum! Did you forget you blew Bellatrix to bits for even coming near me?”

“I managed without your filthy vocabulary, so let that be a lesson.”

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway,” Ginny returned her focus and said in a lowered voice, “You know you can always ask me for anything, ’Mione.”

“And me,” agreed Susan.

“Thanks, girls. Meanwhile, just keep an eye on the boys. I don’t want them exhausting and hurting themselves unnecessarily.”

“Leave them to us. You just… keep this little guy happy.”

“You know that, as long as you take precautions, you can take him out of doors on occasion, Hermione? Being cooped up in the house, no matter how safe, is not good for either of you. And… he should be able to experience as much of the world…”

Hermione nodded. Aneirin gave a whimper and she checked her watch. “It’s time for lunch. I’m really thankful he still has a good appetite.” At Susan’s hesitation to speak, she replied, “And no. The Head Healer is fairly certain that the curse, whatever it is, doesn’t get more powerful with physical sustenance. And he hasn’t increased his appetite all of a sudden.”

“That’s a small mercy.”

“Ginny, may I borrow your room to nurse?”

“’Course. As if you need ask. Let me tidy up a bit so you don’t accidently trip over anything.”

“Maybe Ron really _is_ the Weasley daughter.”

“Ha! He only keeps his flat clean because he found out the hard way that his socks give off this horrid smell if he leaves them lying around for too long. And like mould, the smell starts spreading until all his clothes are infected. Aren’t you so glad you married a ferret with kindly treated house-elves instead?”

“Oh, shut it, Ginny.”

~*~*~*~

“How are you holding up?” Daphne asked as she poured tea.

Hermione accepted it with a nod of thanks. She sighed. “I’m all right. I managed a consecutive four hours last night, which is the longest I’ve had since…”

“You poor dear. Are you still on leave from Mungo’s?”

“No, I’ve returned to work. It helps distract me from my thoughts. And it’s really not fair to burden the others with my caseload. They’re busy enough as is. You know how Mungo’s gets. And even though the pressure is less because we’re still apprenticing, sometimes we need to make final decisions if the Healers are handling more complex situations.”

“You’re too good, Hermione. I don’t know what I would do in your shoes.”

“I’m sure you would be handling things better than me. I see how Narcissa is, and that is something that is practised from childhood. I may not always agree with the attitudes, but there’s no denying that the discipline…”

“Oh, you put too much stock in good breeding. It is easily acquired. I could never have survived in the wilderness like you did.”

“You’re romanticizing it, like most do who have never had to face the terror of being in such situations. It’s not as brave as you make it seem. Too many times, I wished I could just have a nice cup of tea like we’re doing now.”

“Well, you survived that hardship… and you will survive this one, too. Now, could I tempt you with one of these salmon sandwiches?”

~*~*~*~

The group of friends stared down at the captive in the corner of the room.

“Oh, please! Have mercy! I didn’t know!” The huddled figure rocked back and forth, her raspy voice strained. “She never said it was for a child! She said she was taking revenge on a lover who’d spurned her! Please!”

“You’re lying!” snarled Ron. “She’s lying! She started laughing like a madwoman when I told her ol’ Lucius is gonna make sure she dies a slow and horrible death.”

“No, no! I laugh when I’m scared! Have always done! Ask my sister. When she threw that Stinging Hex and burned my face, I laughed like she’d given me a Tickling Charm!” The old witch sobbed. “Mercy!”

Hermione came slowly forward and crouched beside the trembling woman. “Please, can’t you reverse it?”

“’Tis ancient magic, that spell! Not easy to stop it once unleashed. The old ones were merciless. Ohhhh, poor ol’ Mildred!”

“But… you’ve studied the curse, you know what it is more than any of us. Surely you can think of something that could help?”

“Hermione, why reason with her? If she had any compassion to begin with, she’d never have plied such a trade.” Draco dragged Hermione to her feet and made sure Harry guarded her. He turned to the old witch. “What do you want, hag? Money? Protection from old enemies? You _know_ the counter-spell. You wouldn’t’ve let yourself be found otherwise.”

The witch stood and hissed at him. “Are you certain you could afford the payment, insolent brat? Is your son’s life not worth more than all the wealth in the Malfoy vaults? Old Mildred has outlived her worst enemy, so what can you offer?”

“If you think either of us would hesitate to exchange our lives for his…”

“Ah! Flesh sacrifice. Yes, you are starting to use your tiny brain cells. Indeed, one life for another would be a most suitable price… under other circumstances. But you said it so readily—I don’t know that you value your life that highly if you would give it away in such a hasty manner. No, I think you will have to give up something more important than your measly life.”

“So long as it doesn’t harm him nor cause harm or require further sacrifices from any of those who are his family, blood-related or otherwise, then name your price,” said Hermione.

“Ah! Your wife is much more clever than you, Malfoy spawn.” She dismissed him with a flick of the eye. “Now, my pretty, if I were to lift the curse from him completely, would you give up your deep love for him? Oh, I don’t mean severing ties; a mother’s love can linger from beyond the veil. You would merely be separated from him. Not forever, for the bond must be strengthened regularly. Love is the nastiest of emotions: it is all the stronger and more pure for the separation. What are a few years, after all, in a lifetime? He will live to be healthy and happy, possibly have a family of his own.”

Hermione had gone ashen as the witch laid out her terms. Her eyes found Draco’s and locked with them. His silent plea to not heed the witch gave her courage. She took a long, shuddering breath.

She turned to look at the witch. “How long a separation? How long a reunion? And he is to remain under the protection of his blood family.” When the witch nodded and because she couldn’t help herself, Hermione asked, “What will you do with the love you take? If you use it to cause harm to another in any shape or form, I’d rather smother my son with my own hands.” 

The witch barked a laugh. “Always so thoughtful of others. It’s no wonder even the diamond-cold Malfoy heart thawed before such nobility of spirit. Ten years apart, ten hours together. Love is the most potent healing ingredient. After all the Dark spells that poor Mildred has been forced to perform to subsist in this cruel world, I shall use it on my poor battered body.”

“Five years and five years,” snapped Draco.

“Such selfishness! That would hardly count as true sacrifice.”

“Six months apart, six months together.”

“See yourself as being like Hades, do you, whelp? Yes, that seems right. You Malfoys were always cold and haughty. _She_ certainly resembles Persephone. Seven years, seven days. That is my final offer.”

“But if you want it for healing, then surely it would be more beneficial if we remained together. Then you would have a constant source—”

Before Hermione could finish her attempt to reason, the door crashed open and Lucius and Narcissa rushed in.

“Ah! Narcissa Black. You arrived just in time. I was making final arrangements for your grandson’s cure.”

Lucius snarled at her and said sharply to Draco, “Do not promise her anything! She’s not to be trusted to keep her word.” And to the witch, he growled, “I thought you already dead, Malice Mildred.”

She bared her teeth. “All thanks to your dismissal of my affections, Lucius. Made me realize I didn’t need to be a shy mouse, to be kicked about.”

Lucius snorted. “Always the downtrodden act. You forget I saw you pluck the feathers one by one from that canary when you were six. And I warned Rodolphus. Thankfully, he was never interested in you.”

Mildred hissed. “That bitchy Bellatrix laced his pumpkin juice with Amortentia. I know she did! All these years, I hoped to get her back, but she hid away in Azkaban and then got herself foolishly killed! But how fortunate for me that she still has family. And one of them needs my help.” She stepped forward and stared greedily at Hermione. “So, what will it be, my dear? Will you sacrifice your love for your son’s life?” 

"Why?" The question burst from Hermione before she could stop herself.

Mildred raised a brow. "Why? I should ask the same of you. What is a good Gryffindor girl doing associating with Death Eaters?" (Narcissa wandlessly held back her husband and son.) Mildred cocked her head. "Or perhaps the Malfoy vaults overcame your scruples?"

"I would advise you not to continue your line of questioning, Mildred Hortense Lyssa Meagher. I have since perfected that little spell of mine from Fifth Year." Narcissa's voice was calm but cold.

Mildred paled but then gave a cackle as she recovered. "The Dark Lord was a fool to have overlooked you, Narcissa Black. He would still be alive if you were beside him, whispering proper tactics in his ear."

Narcissa sniffed but turned her attention to Hermione. “What has Mildred done, my dear?” Her composure cracked as she heard of the curse and the witch’s demands. With an effort, she controlled both herself and the tight leash she held on Lucius and Draco, who were both red-faced. “One year and seven days. A mother’s love may be powerful, but it is not without peril. You risk deterioration if you separate them for longer. Whatever you may think of me or my family, you should understand when I speak as a mother that it will not benefit you to risk your health for jealousy.”

Mildred growled and after some consideration, said, “Very well. It is fortunate that I have never been a mother, if such weakness is the consequence. Now, my brave girl, I shall need a drop of your blood.”

“No!” Lucius and Draco shouted; Narcissa stepped forward.

Mildred took a few steps away from them and quickly reached into an inner pocket, pulling out a lock of golden hair. She ignited her wand and brought the lock into contact with the flame. “Decide now or watch his life burn away before your eyes!” 

A singeing smell began to permeate the air.

“Stop! I accept!” 

The flames were snuffed, revealing a pristine lock of hair. The fire had been an illusion.

“Now, I need a drop of blood from you, smeared over this lock of your precious son’s hair, to seal the bargain.” She grinned in mad satisfaction as Hermione complied. The blood stain disappeared into the golden strands. They were then placed inside a small, golden frog-shaped amulet. “I shall keep this, to ensure that you keep your end of the bargain. And you may take this to your healer.” She plopped an ordinary-looking shard of obsidian into Hermione’s hand. “She will know what to do to remove the curse.”

She made her way toward the open door. Several bodies tried to impede her but had to move aside when she waved the amulet in front of their faces. 

The last person to stand between her and the exit was Narcissa. 

“And what do you intend to do to save your brat’s spawn, Narcissa Black?”

“I intend to love him. It may only be a poor substitute for that of his mother’s, but he will never lack it. Beware of the power of sacrificial love, Mildred Meagher. You may find it cuts deeper than the sharpest knife.”


	2. Part II

As they awaited the outcome—the Head Healer herself had insisted on undertaking the task—Hermione alternated between pacing and sitting with her head in her hands. Narcissa had let her work off some of her anxiety, but when she finally sat down for what must be the twelfth time, Narcissa placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and asked, “Is something else bothering you, my dear?”

Hermione sighed. “I just… I don’t understand why she wants to separate us. Surely my being around him would ensure a constant supply of the love she needs to heal herself.”

Narcissa rubbed soothing circles on her back. “That is indeed what any decent person would do. But there is a reason why she was dubbed Malice Mildred. And having practised the Dark Arts for so many years, she can only see through a prism of cynicism and hatred. Moreover, she has grown even more miserly. Seeing another’s happiness is unbearable. If she cannot have it, then neither can you.”

“I doubt she ever knew what love is. She’d always seemed more possessive than loving,” Lucius snarled.

Narcissa nodded in agreement. “It is strange. Her parents were such gentle people. One would never have imagined that she came from such a loving family.”

“They spoiled her. Made her completely selfish and tyrannical.”

“Our spoiled child seems to have turned out all right.”

“Oi!” Draco protested.

“And thankfully, he was tamed by a lovely woman.” Narcissa smiled as Hermione blushed.

Lucius patted Draco’s shoulder in sympathy. “Fear not, son. She still loves you best. Forget not that she defied the Dark Lord for you.” He frowned when Draco raised a sardonic eyebrow to him. “If you think that you would have been better off after I were _Avada_’d for defying him, boy—”

“Draco! Lucius!” Narcissa glared until they stopped staring daggers at one another. “Really! If you cannot behave, I will have to—”

But her threat was interrupted by the Head Healer’s arrival to give the good news that the curse was successfully removed and though he was still unconscious, they could go in two at a time to see him. 

Hermione and Draco practically Apparated out of the room.

~*~*~*~

Neville pressed a cup of tea into Hermione’s hands before settling into the plush armchair across. They spent a quiet moment sipping their teas before he asked, “Is everything all right, Hermione?”

Hermione lowered her cup to the saucer and sighed. “I…” She took a deep breath and then said in a rush, “Draco and I have stopped seeing one another.” She finally made eye contact, though there was a look of fear. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear!” Neville leaned forward to grasp her knee and squeeze it in sympathy. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Hermione shook her head, though her relief was palpable. “It’s the curse on Neir. Every time I hear Draco talk about him, I feel such an overwhelming love for him. But of course he doesn’t sense it because I’m not there and it’s all being siphoned away to that… that horrible bitch!” She gave a sob. “And Draco said that the other night, he cried for his dada when he awoke in the night. I… I’ve always been the one to…” Her voice broke and she couldn’t continue.

Neville enveloped her in a warm hug as she cried into his robes. 

Finally, when she calmed, he held her by the shoulders and asked, “You know I will help however you need. But… I’m so removed from all of you here. Why aren’t your family or Harry and Ron… Oh. Of course. Silly me.” He lifted her chin so that she had to make eye contact. “Listen, Hermione. They love you. They can see your pain. And they’ll help you. Without the judgement that you fear. Please, let them help you.”

Her eyes threatened tears again, but she blinked them back. She sighed again. “I know. And Draco has been so patient and gentle. I… rather miss the acerbic comments. But it’s just been hard. I don’t know how to get out of this rut. And I was in the middle of a departmental meeting—I just felt stifled, like the walls were closing in. I had to get away. Hogwarts… Hogwarts was the place where I found answers, so… here I am.”

“Well, you’re welcome to stay and to come whenever you need. I’m sure that McGonagall would agree with me on this. But don’t hole yourself away here. It’ll make things worse.” He smiled when she nodded. A sudden thought came, and he asked, “Would you like to help me grade some first-year essays on the uses of Mandragora?”

As Hermione busied herself with the task, Neville sent a few Owls to reassure the folks in London of her safety. 

The following day, a determined Harry came to bring her home to the flat that she was renting.

~*~*~*~

“... And don’t forget that the Goblin Rebellion of 1752 cost Boots his position as Minister of Magic!”

“All right, I get it, ’Mione! You could’ve just said that it’s a bad idea to buy broom varnish from a Knockturn Alley vendor, even if it costs a fifth of the price as QQS. I don’t need the whole history lesson on unfair wages!”

“Ronald Bilius Weasley! You are about to become a father! You need to set a good example for your child!”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, meant to ask if you’d be godmother. Harry’s already said yes.”

“Of _course_ I will! We said ages ago that we’d want our kids to… to…”

“Ah crap, ’Mione!” He squeezed her hand in sympathy. “Hey, Malfoy said the other day during Quidditch that the sprog came down with such a bad case of hiccups that the Healer had to cast a partial Body Bind before he could administer the potion. And he was so woozy afterwards that he fell asleep right in his carrot mash. Good thing it knocked the bowl on the floor instead of causing the tyke to choke on it. Some got onto Malfoy’s clothes and he found bits of it in his hair that night when he was bathing.”

Hermione gave a watery chuckle. “The poor house-elves.”

“Yeah, well, if I know anything about them, they were in a state of bliss to clean up the mess.”

Hermione sighed. “True. Did Draco mention anything new in Neir’s development?” At her best friends’ exchange of uncomfortable glances, she said, “Much as I hate missing being a part of their lives, I still want to know what’s going on.”

“Neir’s started crawling,” Harry responded hesitantly.

Hermione pressed a hand to her lips, but after a few deep breaths, she managed a smile. “That… that’s wonderful. I’m glad he’s on track.”

“If… if you want, I can ask Malfoy to share some memories. Y’know there’s a Pensieve at Grimmauld Place that no one’s using…”

“Thank you, Harry, that would be lovely.”

~*~*~*~

“These are delicious, Pansy! If it’s not a family secret, I would love the recipe!”

“I’ll copy it out and Owl it. You’d better put away the memory vials. There’s more food coming. You know how Bitsy likes cooking for company.”

Hermione tucked the small box into her charmed bag and continued to sample the dainty sandwiches. “I’m so glad that things are patched up between you and Draco. He really didn’t mean to—”

“Oh, don’t worry. We’ve fought worse over sillier things. And I don’t blame him. After he told me about that horrid cunt—really, Hermione, you can be such a prissy sometimes. Anyway, I’m looking through our library to see if I can find anything useful to get her de-clawed and out of your lives.”

“Thank you, Pansy! Everyone’s been so supportive—”

“Wait ’til I find the bint responsible for the whole dirty business. She’ll wish she were never born.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, surely you don’t think that Meagher woman came up with the plan by herself? Someone paid her to cast that curse. Getting back at Lucius and Narcissa was just a bonus.”

“I-I hadn’t considered—you know, I just remembered that Mildred did mention that the curse was someone’s act of revenge. I… rather forgot that detail with arguing over the terms of the separation and reunion.”

“Well, there you have it.”

“But who?”

“That is indeed the question. Has Narcissa voiced her suspicions?”

“N-no.”

“Has Draco put his foot in it lately and created a new enemy?”

“Not that I’m aware.”

“Hmmm. Well, I’ll keep my eyes open. And I think it’s time to pay a visit to Madam Malkin’s. Best place to pick up gossip.”

~*~*~*~

There was a knock on the door. Startled, Hermione dropped the book she was reading. She got up and grabbed her wand. She lowered it slightly when she noticed Crookshanks sitting expectantly by the door. She opened it.

“Draco—_mmmphhhhhh_…”

When they finally came up for breath, Draco murmured, “Please, these two months have been torture. I know it’s painful for you, but can’t we at least try and figure something out? I miss you so mu—_mmmphhhhhh_…”

Panting slightly, Hermione eventually said, “I’m sorry. I’ve been so horribly selfish. I miss you, too.”

They settled onto the couch, Hermione tucked into his embrace as they were wont. Between kisses, they negotiated a reconciliation. They would meet at neutral locations and be accompanied by friends to provide support should emotions unexpectedly get out of hand. Once they could establish a level of comfort again, her flat, The Burrow, and other such abodes could be visited. And maybe in the not too distant future, unchaperoned dates could become possible again.

Having reached a compromise, Draco caught her up on their son’s recent goings-on, interesting tidbits that could only matter to parents and with details that only they could supply.

Hermione reluctantly saw him to the door, but there was the unspoken promise that he could stay over at some point soon.

~*~*~*~

“So, Cho, how did Theo convince you to go on a date with him?”

“Oh, we met at the Korean Embassy Ball. As two of the few English-speakers in attendance, we naturally gravitated to each other. And we just found a lot in common. Did you know that Theo does watercolours? They’re beautiful, especially the ones he did of Hogwarts.”

“My favourite is the one of the lake, with the Quidditch pitch in the background.”

“Yes! Isn’t it amazing?”

“Cho does wonderful brush paintings,” Theo commented. “She also has a series of Hogwarts ones that you have to see.”

“I would love to see them!”

“We can have a dinner date at our flat. Would Thursday of the week after next work for you two?”

“I should be free. I’ll go home and double-check my calendar. Draco?”

“It’s fine with me. I’ll drop Aneirin at the manor for the weekend. Mum’s been pestering me about an extended visit, so she’ll be happy.”

“Excellent!”

~*~*~*~

It was date night again. And Draco had chosen another lovely restaurant for a quiet meal. Despite the stress and anger over their forced separation, both of them made an extra effort to not allow any negativity on these nights. And bittersweet though it continued to be to hear updates about their little boy, Hermione viciously suppressed her jealousy and focussed on celebrating his accomplishments and new discoveries of the world.

As Hermione bit into her dessert, she felt an overwhelming gratitude that she and Draco had fully re-established their relationship and, provided they accepted a bit of denial, were merely doing what all married couples did to keep the romance alive once the sprogs arrived. She even privately felt that the trials of the past few months had strengthened their bond—she could _hear_ Pansy’s scoff and practically _feel_ Draco’s raised brow at such sentiments; even Harry would pat her shoulder awkwardly and Ron turn a bright, embarrassed shade of red. Never mind, her feelings were valid.

“If you’re really adamant about not heeding your gran’s warning that your face would eventually freeze into that frown if you held it long enough, I know a spell.”

Hermione choked then hurled a Stinging Hex under the table.

“Ow!”

“Prat!”

“Felicitations upon your return to reality.”

“Pavonine pillock!”

“A new one! Glad you’re putting all that spare time to good use!”

Hermione bit back a retort but couldn’t stop the sudden tears.

“Sauron’s sprained scrotum!” He pulled her against him and pressed a kiss atop her head. “I’m sorry, _ma loutre_. I wish you were spending your off-hours with us as well.”

She pressed her head into the juncture of neck and shoulder and tightened her hold about his waist. “I-I’m all right. I just miss him.”

“Well, he misses you, too.”

“He probably doesn’t remember me after I’ve been gone for so long.”

“That’s not true. I told you I placed a stasis charm on your pajamas and transformed them into a blanket. It still smells of you. And when we show him your pictures, he smiles in recognition. Hasn’t quite got ‘Ma’ around his lips, but he tries.”

“I love him so much.”

“I know.” He pressed another kiss. “Does… does it still hurt?”

“You mean the post-siphoning emptiness? No, not anymore. I’m aware of it, but I’m trying to not let it bother me as much as it used to. And it’s a lot better when I’m with you.”

Draco tugged her chin up for a kiss. Wiping a stray tear, he said, “Let’s finish our desserts. I’ve arranged a Portkey for Nicaragua. We’re taking a stroll along the beaches of Guacalito De La Isla and spending the night. And don’t fret, I’ve got an alert spell from Mum if the sprog fusses at bedtime.”

~*~*~*~

As they lined up for the Floo to return home, Hermione said to Daphne, “This has been really lovely, Daphne. Thank you.”

“Oh, my pleasure. I know that clothes shopping isn’t really your usual means of distraction, but I think one should try different techniques.”

“Indeed! And that new set of dress robes is so perfect for you!”

“Thank you! I’ll have to find an occasion to wear them! Pity there are currently so few social events.”

“Oh, I’m sure you wouldn’t need to do too much convincing to get your mum to host an event.”

“That’s true! Oh, silly me, almost dropped little Neir’s gift. I can’t wait to see—oh, I’m so sorry! That was very thoughtless of me!”

Hermione let out a deep breath and managed a smile. “It’s all right. I’d rather hear his news and know he’s doing well, hard as it is.”

“Well, he’s gotten very quick on all fours. Draco and I took our eyes off him for only a moment… found him ready to pull the tablecloth from the dining room table to get at the cookies. Thank goodness for house-elves!” 

“Like father, like son.”

“They are such a precious pair.”

“G-give Neir hugs and kisses for me.”

“I will.”

~*~*~*~

Hermione opened her eyes, realized that it was dawn, and gave a small sob. She buried her head under the covers.

Some time later, there was a quiet knock on the bedroom door. Gentle arms wrapped around her cocooned frame and a loving voice said, “Come, dear. I know hibernating all day seems the best remedy, but you know that once your brain has tired of sleep, it will drive you insane with incessant thoughts. Daddy’s made your favourite scones and put out the blueberry jam that we made last year. Freshen up and come downstairs. If we don’t see you in a half-hour, I’m sending Crookshanks to fetch you.”

Hermione greeted her parents with grateful hugs and tucked into her breakfast. Her parents kept up a continuous conversation on the latest goings-on in their world. After they’d cleaned the dishes, they sat in the sunroom with their teas.

“Sweetie, Daddy and I have been thinking about a trip to Sydney and then New Zealand. Would you like to join us?”

“Oh! When?”

“In three weeks’ time for five weeks, if we can manage to book the tour.”

“That sounds lovely! I think I can get the time off. The Head Healer has been hinting that I should take a holiday and spend some time away from illness and death, dampen the tendency toward maudlin thoughts.”

“She’s right. You’ve been fairly good with the work-life balance, but you know you tend to overdo things.”

“I know. I’ve tried extra hard not to this week…”

Her mother squeezed her hand in sympathy. “You’re managing extremely well, dear. We’re so proud of you.”

“Thank you, Mum.” Hermione wiped away tears. “I miss him so much. I-I gave Draco your gifts when we had lunch two days ago. H-he promised to take lots of photos of Neir unwrapping them.”

“Magical photos are amazing! Like short films!” her dad commented.

“Yes, but I think there’s still something more poignant about still photography. That brief moment in time captured for all eternity,” Hermione said.

“True. Did you give Draco your camera as well?”

“Yes. I told him I want ones of Neir eating his birthday cake. Narcissa says it’s a family tradition to bake a small one especially for the birthday boy to demolish. She showed me the pictures of Draco making a complete mess of his—he’d even got cake on Lucius, who looked delighted.”

“Well, it’s a good thing he outgrew his privileged upbringing,” her dad said.

“Yes, he’s definitely turned over a new leaf. We’re very glad that the two of you have worked out an arrangement, dear.”

“I am as well. Those two months of separation were even worse than the months of hunting the Horcruxes.”

“Clichéd as the phrase is, there really is truth in ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’. And I’m sure some remedy can be found. You have some very clever and loyal friends.”

“Yes, and I’m so thankful for them.”

“Now, what say you spend an hour with me in the garden? I want some fresh flowers for dinner tonight. I’ve got something special planned. We may not be at the party, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t celebrate my grandson’s birthday.”

~*~*~*~

“I saved you and the Crookmeister slices of cake.”

Draco and Hermione watched in amusement as her pet sniffed the proffered cake suspiciously before devouring it. Hermione tucked into her piece and hummed in praise. Draco kissed the top of her head. He flipped through the album of photographs from the party, giving details from the day. 

“Oh! Daphne wore her new dress robes! They really are stunning on her.”

“Pansy teased her for being so overdressed. I was rather surprised, myself. She usually has a better sense of the occasion.”

“Well, she did say that there’s been a lull in social events lately, so she was probably wanting an excuse to wear them.”

“She was sorry by the end of the day. Our sprog got cake on her.”

“You needn’t sound so proud of him! Poor Daphne! I hope you offered to have them cleaned.”

“Mifty had the thing spotless within five minutes. Panse, of course, took commemorative pictures before Daphne could stop her.”

“You’d never know that you lot were such good friends.”

“As if you and Ginevra didn’t hound the Weasel until he agreed to shave off that ridiculous mustache.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me! And anyway, it was for his own good. As you say, it looked ridiculous!”

Draco rolled his eyes. “So, are the arrangements for the trip finalized?”

“Yes. I’m looking forward.”

“Pretend to miss me some of the time?”

“Prat!” She kissed him. “You know I’ll miss you loads. But Mum and Head Healer Gregory are right: it’ll be good for me to get away. And if the natural beauty of New Zealand can’t help me find inner peace, there are few places that ever will.”


	3. Part III

Hermione waited nervously in front of Fortescue’s. She and Draco had agreed to meet in a neutral location that wasn’t too busy or noisy. 

“There’s Mummy!”

She spun around and stared at the _beautiful_ boy in his daddy’s arms. He looked where his daddy had pointed and his grey eyes widened in recognition. But as they came within reach, he suddenly buried his face in the crook of his daddy’s neck, stricken with sudden shyness.

“What’s the matter, Loffy? You were so excited to spend time with Mummy today! Turn around and say ‘Hello’. Or are you too scared?”

“_No!_ No scare!”

“But you’re still hiding your face in my neck. That means you _must_ be scared.”

“_Da-aaa!_” But it seemed to have done the trick, for Aneirin emerged from his burial site. He gave his mummy a shy smile and said, “Mu-ummm.”

Tears sprang in Hermione’s eyes, and, careful not to startle him, she pressed a gentle hand to his back and rubbed soothing circles. When he didn’t turn away, she pressed closer and pecked his check. He chuckled. Her grin threatened to split her face. 

“All right, let’s not stand in the street to be ogled any longer. Come, Loffy, what flavour of ice cream do you reckon we should try today?” Draco entwined his free hand into hers and led them inside the shop.

As usual, there was a line-up, but it wasn’t nearly as long as on weekend afternoons. They’d purposely chosen a Tuesday to have their first reunion. It had been a long year for both of them, and they wanted to enjoy the limited time they had as much as possible. And to test whether “one week” was defined by the calendar or a continuous seven-day period as defined by its inception. While magic was flexible and adaptive, its power was very much defined by its caster. Malice Mildred had not seemed the lenient type. But they felt it worth the risk.

While Draco read off the list of flavours, Hermione looked quietly at father and son, drinking in every gesture, every shared look, every smile. The weariness and slight cynicism that had graced Draco’s countenance since Voldemort’s second rising and defeat were completely absent, and he looked like the young and confident boy she’d gone to school with, though luckily without the snottiness. And the longer she stared at her son, the more she saw his resemblance to his daddy, down to the way he dismissed an option with a wave of his tiny hand and an emphatic twist of his head. 

“—gone deaf, Mummy?”

“What?” Hermione blinked out of her trance and gaped at Draco.

“I asked what flavour you’d like.”

“Oh!” She quickly scanned the labels on the glass. “The black and white sesame swirl, please.”

They found a small table in the corner. The chair magicked into a booster seat as soon as Aneirin was lowered onto it. He’d chosen the peanut butter and chocolate chip cookie one, and Hermione watched in fascination as he nimbly and delicately scooped bite after bite into his mouth without creating much of a mess. 

“Your ice cream is going to melt if you don’t stop staring, Mummy. We have a full day’s events planned, you know.”

Hermione raised a brow. “And am I to be informed of said activities?”

Draco grinned. “We will start with a visit to Fortescue’s for ice cream.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, reined in her curiosity, and dug into her glass bowl. Between bites, Draco and Neir conversed about their Sunday of building a fortress of wooden blocks and giggling when it came tumbling down in a heap. And then, they spent some time in Mémère’s garden playing hide-and-seek. Hermione laughed when Neir commented on the destroyed building with an enthusiastic “Uh-oh! Hahaha!” 

They left Fortescue’s and made their way to the Apparition Station. They arrived in a lush green park. Hermione was so busy looking around and trying to figure out where they were that she did not notice the conjured blanket and picnic hamper laid out in front of her.

“Have a seat, Mummy. We’re inside a private residence whose location is a fiercely guarded secret among Slytherins. The house-elves made their famous Salade Niçoise and would be terribly put out if you didn’t have any.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and took a seat, smiling her thanks as plate and utensils were passed to her. She watched her son eat and was pleased to learn that he was not a picky eater. She smiled when she noted that he loved his vegetables, knowing how pleased Grandma would be. 

Draco unveiled a ricotta dip and placed one of the bowls before her, the other in front of himself. He placed some cut-up celery, carrots, and cucumber on Neir’s plate and invited him to try one of dips. He shared a grin with Hermione as their son leaned in to smell each of the bowls. Hermione gasped when he took a healthy serving of her dip.

“H-he doesn’t like coriander!” 

“Yuck!” Neir agreed emphatically and took another bite of his cucumber.

“He’s not solely my son, you know,” Draco said wryly. 

Hermione laughed and coated her vegetables with the same parsley-laced dip that her son had helped himself to. As their meal progressed, Neir became more and more animated and comfortable around his mummy and soon climbed into her lap to be fed the finicky pasta salad that, despite his dexterity, was a bit much for his 18-month-old skills. 

After the meal, he fell asleep in his mummy’s arms as his daddy read him his favourite tale about an adventurous monkey and his yellow-garbed owner.

The trio packed away the foodstuff and made the mile-long trek to the residence on the well-kept property. They spent two hours exploring the spacious rooms. When a gong sounded at six o’clock, they freshened up and made their way to the formal dining room, where they were served a delicious, ten-course meal in a manner very reminiscent of the Disney feature film “Beauty and the Beast”. 

As she lay in her husband’s arms that night, having tucked their son safely in, she murmured that she felt as happy as the day they married.

~*~*~*~

Aneirin squealed in delight as he and his mummy slid down the water slide toward the pool below. As soon as they climbed out of the water, he demanded to return to the top of the slide. His parents took turns bringing him up.

At last, full bladders and empty stomachs forced a break in the merriment. Over lunch, the parents agreed that despite their penchant for garishness, the Americans certainly knew how to design theme parks. 

“More!” Aneirin held up his empty bowl for a second serving of guacamole. 

“So, Daddy,” Hermione said as she filled her son’s bowl, “where to next?”

“After the morning’s excitement, I thought a nap on the beach of our hotel would be a good idea. Don’t worry, I reserved a nice spot under some palm trees. And the concierge assured me that they would set up protective spells, so even if Loffy wandered off while we napped, he couldn’t be harmed.”

“That sounds lovely. Are you finished already, Neir? Good boy! Now, let’s tidy up!”

~*~*~*~

They were nestled in the large bed, their son sleeping peacefully while snuggled between them. Hermione couldn’t help stroking his cheek and combing through his hair, occasionally pressing kisses. The little family had spent the day hiking the Puez-Odle Altopiano of Italy. Draco and Hermione had alternated carrying Aneirin on their backs.

Draco pressed a kiss to her temple and murmured, “The hike was a brilliant suggestion.”

Hermione smiled up at him. “Maybe we could try one of the others on our shortlist in the next few years until we’ve covered all of them.”

“Agreed. And perhaps, if we find a solution to our problem, we could even manage all of them in a shorter period of time.”

Hermione’s smile faded. “You know that neither Pansy, Susan, nor Neville have found anything that may be useful. And Lucius dismissed his and Theo’s methods as being too dangerous.”

“I thought Gryffindors were fierce optimists.”

“For the most part. But we need to also be realistic. If this is how our lives are to play out, then we should focus only on how best to maximize the quality of time spent. This past year, I’ve always been afflicted with feelings of jealousy that the other girls have been able to spend more time with Neir than me. But these past few days have made me realize that seeing him so happy is enough. Nothing is more important than his well-being.”

Draco sighed. “Well, I’m more ambitious for both of you. You deserve more, and I’m not going to let that gorgon get the upper hand.”

“I appreciate it. Meanwhile, I’m thankful that Pansy and Daphne have been spending time with Neir. They’ve been sharing such funny stories.”

“Oh? I didn’t think Daphne could have much to say about Loffy, given that he doesn’t like her.”

“What?”

“He’s never wanted to be near her—won’t even let her touch him. With Panse, they’re practically inseparable. We’re going to need to keep a close eye on them. She’s bound to be a bad influence.”

“Says the pot of the kettle!”

Draco raised a brow. “At least I won’t have to worry about them heedlessly going off seeking excitement. There are worse things than three-headed dogs and murderous Basilisks that one can come across.”

“Oh, shut it! The three of us have had enough dangerous encounters to last a lifetime. As have you.”

Draco scoffed. “I’m sure Mum’s devised a tracker of some sort to make sure Loffy can’t get in harm’s way. If she could lock him up in the manor forever, she would.”

“Well, I can’t say I disagree with her concern.”

“I don’t intend on mentioning how we nearly chucked him off the edge of the cliff because of uneven ground.”

“Yes, and the bit about him getting mild food poisoning as well.”

Draco yawned. “We’d better catch some shut-eye. The lad’s never been able to stay asleep for more than two hour stretches.”

Hermione kissed him. “I love you.”

~*~*~*~

To their relief, Hermione and Draco discovered that they could enjoy a complete seven-day visit together before a warning spell in the form of magicked cuckoo clock shrilly announced the end.

Hermione could only thank whatever lucky star was shining above that she could see her son peacefully settled for the night before needing to take her leave. She didn’t want to consider having to say good-bye while he watched her walk away.

She hugged Draco tightly and only reluctantly untangled when the “FOOM” of the fireplace announced the arrival of Harry and Ron, who were tasked with making sure she would not be alone for the next few days. Longer, if they deemed it necessary. For once, Draco’s stubbornness overrode hers.


	4. Part IV

“Apprentice Healer Granger-Malfoy, you’ve been requested to take this next case—asked for you specifically.”

“Oh? What is the patient’s ailment?”

“Failed self-inflicted _Avada_.”

“What?! How is that even possible? No one survives… and why would—maybe the Unforgiveable doesn’t work when self-inflicted—do we have any prior cases where—”

“Please, will you come and see her?”

“Oh, yes, of course, sorry!”

Hermione followed the ward clerk into the large room and stopped before the bed at the very back. She was shocked to see how shrivelled up (there was no other way to describe it) the patient looked. She received a second shock when she read the name on the chart. She quickly drew the curtains.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled up a stool and sat so that she could be at eye level with the patient. 

They stared at one another. Finally, Hermione said softly, “Hello, Mildred.”

A trembling hand with gnarled fingers reached out and grabbed Hermione’s wrist. “Please,” Mildred whispered.

“Why have you done this? I—I thought the amulet was working…”

“Yes.” Mildred gasped for breath. Hermione cast a quick stasis charm of her own design and the analgesic effect was immediate. Mildred closed her eyes and sighed in relief. When she opened them, there were tears. “Thank you. You—you are too—I’m sorry.”

Hermione took another breath. “I forgive you. Truly, I do,” she insisted at Mildred’s incredulity. “One year of separation from the two people I love the most in the world has given me plenty of time to think. I could not have understood twelve months ago what you must have suffered to turn you so bitter in your isolation nor would I have cared. But we have all done wrong and caused harm, however unintentional, to those we love.”

Mildred began sobbing. Hermione held her hand until, at last, she calmed down. When she could speak again, Mildred requested that Hermione write down three questions. Then, she asked that a bottle of Veritaserum be procured. At Hermione’s astonishment, she insisted: it was the only way she would be believed. When Hermione made to protest again, she said, “It is my dying wish. Even if you were to administer life-saving treatment, you would be wasting your time, for I do not wish to endure my suffering any longer. If you have truly forgiven me as you say, then you should grant me some peace in my final moments.”

Hermione sighed and complied. Then, she listened wide-eyed as a monotoned Mildred recounted her ordeal in the past month through answering the three posed questions. The amulet had worked wonders. She had never felt so healthy and vibrant since her final two years at Hogwarts, when her magic was at its peak. It was during her final month there that she had gathered enough courage to confess her love for Rudolphus Lestrange, only to be brutally rejected. After leaving school, she started on the path that led her to this point in life, having sought out and practised the Dark Arts for the purpose of willfully causing harm to others. And she paid the price with her diminishing health, which no amount of spellcasting and potion-brewing could stem. 

When she realized that the curse she had cast involved the great war heroine Hermione Granger, she saw her chance for revival. Much as she loathed them, there was no denying that the purity and fierceness of a Gryffindor’s brash brand of love was of the strength needed for her regeneration. And so, she created the amulet to siphon and store that powerful emotion. When she drank of the renewal potion, she thought herself invincible. 

Unfortunately, the feeling lasted exactly one week. After that, a bone-rattling pain struck her so forcefully that she had collapsed. And despite brief periods of reprieve, it had only escalated ever since, to the point where it was so unbearable, she had turned her wand on herself and cast the _Avada_, only to have it fail. She knew in her heart that she had unwittingly cursed herself: the revival spell was one Dark spell too many. She did not want to experience that pain again, and she knew that as soon as she left Mungo’s, it would return. And so, she would rather that Hermione Granger cast the _Avada_. Gryffindors were strangely merciful that way.

A stunned silence followed. Hermione sat staring at the expressionless, supine witch in the narrow hospital bed. Finally, recalling her training, she administered a Sleeping Draught, informing Mildred that she would return the following morning.

For the rest of the day, in between cases, Hermione pondered the strange tale, consulted with colleagues and the Head Healer. After her shift, she looked up case files in the archives and even requested a consultation from the Department of Mysteries. Finally, she requested a meeting with her mum, Narcissa, and Molly and brought forth her findings and suspicions. They agreed that she had found the explanation. Misunderstanding and twisting it as Mildred had done, she had nonetheless spoken the truth: love could indeed be the nastiest of emotions, for it could hurt as greatly as it could heal. The soothing qualities arising from the happiness of reunion turned into the pain of separation once Hermione was bereft her son again. The grief she suffered emotionally manifested as physical torment for Mildred. And it seemed that the pain would only increase the longer mother and son were apart. Molly pointed out that just as Lily’s sacrifice had saved Harry’s life, Hermione’s love had caused Mildred’s _Avada_ to fail. 

Hermione sighed. They had solved the mystery of Mildred’s survival, but she was still left with an ethical dilemma: it was against her moral code as a Healer to knowingly take a life. Dr. Granger stroked her hair, stating that she understood Hermione’s difficulties, but then also told what she knew of the pros and cons of euthanasia. Hermione should, of course, have a frank discussion with Mildred about other treatment options—surely there was some way to properly utilize the power stored in the amulet that avoided the unfortunate side-effect. Dr. Granger sighed and pointed out that the patient needed to be compliant, and if her choice in the end was still cessation of life, then her wishes would need to be respected, much as it was against Hermione’s professional code.

Hermione nodded glumly but murmured that she would find as many alternate treatment options as possible. Narcissa took both Hermione’s hands in hers and firmly stated her belief that Hermione would make the right choice in the end. All three mothers offered any further assistance and support that would be needed. Hermione hugged each of them.

~*~*~*~

Mildred listened patiently to Hermione’s carefully researched treatment options but adamantly refused to stray from her wishes. She then placed the lock of hair she had been using as her bargaining tool into Hermione’s hand. She gave detailed instructions on what ingredients to collect to remove her Dark spell.

Hermione expressed her gratitude and, still unwilling to accede to Mildred’s request, begged her to think it over in the time it would take to remove the spell—perhaps this act of mercy would automatically cancel the ill-effects of pain. Mildred shook her head but agreed with an air of resignation.

The morning after she had rendered the amulet inert, Hermione arrived at Mungo’s and received news that the patient that had been admitted for her failed suicide attempt had passed peacefully in the night.

~*~*~*~

Hermione, Lucius, and Narcissa were looking on indulgently as Aneirin played a game of his own devising of moving blocks and toy Quaffle with his dad and his uncles Harry and Ron when the house-elf announced the arrival of Miss Pansy and her guest.

Hearing the name of his godmother, Aneirin ran toward the door excitedly but stopped short when he saw her companion. He ran toward his mum and cowered into her lap. A puzzled Hermione gasped when she finally recognized the greying, shrunken witch. 

Narcissa had also recognized the witch, and said with a sniff, “So, it _was_ you who hired Mildred to kill my grandson, Daphne Valeria Greengrass.”

The men roared in outrage and were only prevented from attacking the witch by the strong hindrance spell that Narcissa cast. Daphne had backed away but was prevented from escaping by the tight hold Pansy had on the magical tether. Tight-lipped, Pansy marched the withered witch further into the room and pushed her into a chair furthest away from Hermione and Aneirin.

The toddler had by this time climbed into his mum’s lap and was mumbling into the crook of her neck, “No like her, Mu-umm.”

Hermione cuddled him and placed a comforting hand on his head to shield Daphne from his field of vision. “It’s all right, Neir. Mummy won’t let her hurt you.”

“Have a seat, all of you. This will take some time,” Pansy said without preamble. When she was sure that everyone was comfortable, she continued. “I finally found her hiding in the family residence on the Isle of Skye. It took some persuading, but she finally admitted that she paid that old hag to put that curse on Aneirin and forcibly separate Hermione and Draco so that she could worm her way into Draco’s affections. Too bad she never accounted for them working things out despite their predicament.”

“How did you figure out it was her?” Draco asked through clenched teeth.

“There was one day that we were both playing with Aneirin. He wouldn’t go near her, as usual—good instincts on your boy, you two should definitely nurture it—and, while running away, accidentally hit her with one of the toys. I never saw such a look of hatred on anyone toward an innocent child. She didn’t even realize that I’d noticed. I made sure she was never alone with him after that. I told the house-elf to notify me whenever she showed up, which was much too often than was acceptable for such a passing acquaintance.” Pansy ignored Daphne’s growl. “I should have suspected her intentions. But given how sickeningly close these two love birds are, I didn’t think anyone would even bother to try and separate them.”

“How did you finally figure it out?” Ron piped up.

“Her disappearance and Mildred’s hospitalization seemed too much of a coincidence. And I guess Mildred didn’t trust her not to double-cross her either; this _has_ to be her handiwork,” she said, gesturing to Daphne’s prematurely aged looks. “Apparently not dependent on the caster staying alive to keep being effective.”

“What! That cunt-faced scratter!” Daphne snarled.

“Pots and kettles, you dumfungled bint!” Pansy hissed. She suddenly focussed her attention on Narcissa and asked, “When did you start suspecting her, Narcissa?”

“As you pointed out, my dear, she visited much too frequently. It is too common and vulgar a tactic. I felt more comfortable with her here, however, where I could keep an eye on her. And I most certainly would have intervened if she managed to cause any real trouble. Thankfully, for all their faults, Malfoy men are quite single-minded in their affections.”

Lucius harrumphed and Draco sputtered, but neither denied. 

Narcissa continued. “Pansy, if you would be so kind as to pluck a hair from her, I have further means to prove she is the offender.” 

She conjured a bowl and a bottle of viscous liquid. She filled the bowl part-way and held it up for Pansy to drop the strand of hair in. She then magically retrieved a folded handkerchief and revealed another strand of hair, which she placed in the bowl. After three swirls, the liquid turned blue. 

“A perfect match,” Lucius and Pansy said simultaneously. They glared daggers at the culprit.

“After Hermione administered the cure for Aneirin, I paid a visit to Mildred. She seemed to have been expecting me, for although she could not bring herself to apologize, she did give me that handkerchief and said it would identify her customer. And so it has.”

Harry cleared his throat. “Normally, I’d step in to insist on following protocol under wizarding law, but I’ll let Hermione and Draco decide what they want to do.”

There was a collective murmur of agreement. 

Draco was about to speak up but held his tongue when Hermione grabbed his hand and squeezed it. Turning to Pansy, Hermione said, “Would you safeguard her for the remainder of the day? Draco and I will have an answer for you tomorrow.”

Pansy nodded and dragged Daphne toward the travelling room. When she returned, she informed that Daphne was under the watchful eye of the Parkinson house-elf and family portraits. She promised Hermione that she would not touch a hair on the bitch’s head for a twelve-hour period, after which, if pure-blood law overrode Ministry ones, she would most certainly take great delight in making her pay.

In the end, it was not surprising that Hermione won the argument and chose to not press charges, extracting promises from all who were present that they would not enact any vengeance on the witch. 

Hermione even went a step further and treated Daphne’s ailments, alleviating some of the symptoms of old age, though naught could be done for her marred looks. 

Draco took comfort in believing that Hermione didn’t try too hard to help Daphne restore her countenance.

He was soon distracted with preparations for the imminent addition to their family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://mindmathom.tumblr.com/post/187082692700/%E7%89%9B%E9%83%8E%E7%B9%94%E5%A5%B3-cowherd-and-weaver-girl


End file.
